


Space Oddities

by orphan_account



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Future Freak 'verse, Sci-Fi, Space fic, idk either, its set in a new concept world i made up, so fanfiction of a story thats not even written yet??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:40:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just bear with me okay its probably very confusing but yeah its explained in the fic itself and the end notes</p>
    </blockquote>





	Space Oddities

**Author's Note:**

> just bear with me okay its probably very confusing but yeah its explained in the fic itself and the end notes

Patricia sat on her bunk in her dorm, nervously drumming her fingers on her thigh. Today, she was finally leaving the plantation, with Frank. They had known as soon as they saw the notices asking for volunteers that they would go, even if it meant running away from the plantation. The application form had only required their age, name, gender and any freaks they might have- Patricia had telepathy, and a partial ani-morph in the form of owl-like talons and scales on her hands and feet. She hated them, but Frank loved them, said they made her perfect.

She thought he was perfect too. They’d met on the plantation, growing crops in massive fields under the starry skies, slowly bonding over a shared job or favour to be asked. He had a rare skin-freak, in that he could change his skin colour like one of those long-extinct lizards, send swirls and ripples of colour down his arms and torso. He had bright, clever hazel eyes and he could sing, sing so beautifully Patricia thought it must be a freak talent because nobody could make that sound with natural vocal chords.

They were running away to the ship together- a plan hurriedly thought out and planned that last week. Security wasn’t tight here, but punishments were severe, she had scars to prove it. It was a matter of getting out and away before they could be caught. In this way they were lucky, as the ship was leaving at midnight, the launch date brought forward by the masses of refugees desperate to escape the conflict on earth.

The planet was bright in the sky that night, huge and blue and strange. She’d never visited, and never would- it made her feel a little sad.

A quiet tap on the window broke her from her thoughts, and she leapt across to the window. Frank was stood against the wall, grinning his sharp-toothed crooked grin at her. She smiled back and grabbed her small bag of belongings before opening the window as quietly as possible so as to not wake the other girls. She felt guilty at the thought of leaving them, but she tried to push it aside as she clambered out the window.

The pair crept in the shadows of the wide courtyard, avoiding crunchy weeds and the bright white floodlights. Frank held her hand tight, smoothing a thumb over the scales, leading her into the dark shadows cast by the walls.

A little further along, the wall was replaced by an electrified chain link fence from when one of the huge horxen had crashed through when it’s escaped from the Pens. It’d been Frank’s fault, he’d set it free- he was always pulling dumb pranks that Patricia told him off for, because she didn’t want to see him get tortured by the sector managers.

At the bottom corner, they’d managed to pull the fence out of the earth with the help of another escapee the day before- they didn't even know his name. Names weren't really of much importance here, and some had even forgotten their names. All they had then were their numbers; worker no. 5497 was her's. But frank had never called her that, refused to see her as a number.

A scratch in the earth beside the hole told them he’d already left- a sharp, angular glyph in the dirt reading; “ _See you on the otherside, love birds”_ Frank smiled down at it, then scuffed it over with his boot.

“You go first.” He whispered, pushing the bag under first.

It was a tight fit, but she made it, careful not to let her clothing catch the jagged electrically charged metal. Frank followed, but leapt back when he brushed against the wire. He met her eyes with a face pale green and ghostly.

“I can’t fit.” He whispered, starting to panic- his thought waves became erratic and jumpy, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

“Of course you can, we’ll dig it out a bit.” Patricia tried for calm, but a slight tremor in her tone betrayed her. Swallowing thickly, she began to dig out to hard dirt with her talons.

The two figures worked fast, frank ignoring the bruises forming on his tired fingers. After a few minutes, they’d widened the hole by a couple of inches.

It was a tight squeeze, but he made it. Panting on the ground beside her, his skin swirling blues and greens and dark browns. Patricia pulled him to his feet and hugged him tight to her for a moment.

"We're going to make it, Frank. we will, I promise." He nodded into her shoulder and squeezed her tight, then stepped back and flashed her a wide grin. Maybe that was another freak, that smile of his, she thought to herself.

"Lets go then." He said in a half-whisper, grabbing her hand and tugging her down the empty street in the direction of the harbour.

As they jogged through the quiet, sleepy town, a small breeze sent dust-devils skipping across the roads. The faint hum of gravity generators, never quietened, was as much apart of the planetoid as it's earth and trees. Built from trash generated by thousands of wasteful generations on earth, dozens of similar planetoids circled the earth like very tiny moons. each were only large enought to sustain two or three towns, or even cities, with the majority of the surface taken up by farms. Huge sweeping fields of grains, vegetables, orchards of fruit and battery-sheds housing overgrown, genetically engineered horxen and chickens and pigs. Slaves worked the plantations, orphans of the war or freaks forced into labour, churning out food for a dying empire that'd barely even begun.

The looming white curve of the space harbour came into view over the brow of a hill, and the young couple sped up towards it. It's smooth, architectural were the only thing of beauty to be found on Alpha 8, or as Patricia said, their very own taster of hell. Even then, they were far too synthentic, too measured and logical to ever be truly beautiful. As they watched, the white glass roof sild open completely silently, revealing the snout of the ship they would soon be deaprting on. with nervous smiles they hurried on throught the ghost town, heading toward the future.

When they arrived, thousands of other people were there, waiting to board on row upon row of plastic chairs. They had been arriving for several weeks now, but shuttle-car from other planetoids, from Mars and the moon and the Earth itself. The crowds chatted quietly among themseleves- most were young couples escaping from their pasts or hurrying toward a glorified future, wanting to be pioneers of history or just trying to survive.

Frank and Patricia walked over to the ticket desk, and handed in their blue slips of paper. They were handed back name tags on strings which they slipped over their heads, their first names then assigned number code beneath- Frank was 243/AFV, Patricia was 243/AFW. They made their way to a pair of empty seats and settled down to wait.

This ship was a 50-50 split, 50% males and 50% females on a generation ship headed for Karn. They were the second ship heading there- the first had been a female dominated ship. Human space travel had not yet advanced to applying speed-of-light travel to ships of this size, but small shuttle ships could achieve speeds nearing that acclaimed boundry. These had acted as scouts, checking the planets were suitable for human inhabitation. Of course, the ship would take 400 years to reach the distant planet, but not much would change in 400 years, right?

Patricia tried to push all the doubts from her mind, but there were just so many things that could go wrong. It'd been easy to ignore it before, leaving it to simmer underneath the excitement and thrill of running away from and defying all she'd ever known, but now her natural pessimism crawled back to whisper doubts in her ear in the vast waiting hall.

She felt Frank's hand tighten on hers and looked down at their clasped hands. His skin was a comfortable, natural pale pink, but black shot and jumbled around to form spiky glyphs, asking  _Nervous?_

She nodded and stroked his hand with her ugly, scaly thumb. Frank lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. Patricia looked at him with a sigh, which he silenced with a kiss. Her hand moved to cup his face gently, run her fingers through his hair. Opening her eyes just a fraction, she could see the reds and pinks and oranges blushing like spilt watercolours across his pale face, and his thoughts were louder and clearer and like warm sunshine.

A claxon blaring made them jump apart, then giggle slightly, blushing. People were begginning to form five lines, each going toward a different door. They joined the queue labelled '200-250' and held hands as they wainted, Frank swinging their bags in rythm with swaying their hands. Patricia leant against him, feeling all of a sudden very tired.

The rest of the boarding passed in a blur- getting their tickets stamped five times, being scanned for weapons or bombs ten times, and being given new clothes to wear; plain, loose fitting t-shirts and black trousers. Huge escalators carried them up to doors set high up on the bright white flanks of the ship, 700ft above the ground. They watched machinery being loaded into the enormous bay doors beneath the ship's engines, and final checks being done all over the ships. When they boarded, there were numerous hambers leading in- pressure chambers and chambers to cleanse them of diseases and dirt, leaving them damp and deshevelled. Androids with kind plastic faces lead them to their new apartments, handing them cards and explaining how the journey would work, but there'd be a meeting tomorrow to discuss this further. It was blissful escape to Patricia when they finally reached their new home- deck 43, no. 137. They thanked the automaton, and Patricia immediatley lay down in the too-clean, too-new bed, not even bothering to take off her clothes.

Frank slid in beside her, but was careful not to touch her or move too close- and she realised in a huge tide that this was the first time they'd shared a bed together, and that they'd be doing the stuff that goes with being a couple, and it really would be for a very long time, and she suddenly felt like none of her 17 years of living were sufficient in teaching her how to handle this situation.

However, for all the turmoil in her head, Frank just lay there breathing steadily, looking up at the blank ceiling. Starlight flitered in through the strip of window, and they just listened for a while. Faint shouting reached them, the whirr of machinery and the heavy drumbeat through the decks of the engines just starting up. Suddenly, Patricia found she couldn't lay there a moment longer or she'd go insane. She got up to stand by the window, and try watch the tiny, tiny people scurrying around the vast concrete launching pad. Then there weren't any people scurrying around any more, and the pitch of the engine's humming rose. She felt Frank wrap his arm around her, and felt him tremble faintly against her. The walls of the enormous room began sliding away, and they were rising into the night. The moon came into view, and then Earth, and then the ship was turning away from home, and it was moving forward. For a moment or two, it appeared to just be drifiting, but then the engines humming rose to a high wail and everything was a blur.

The stars streaked the inky fabric of space like moonlight glinting off the surface of a lake. The engines noise had settled back into a steady, quiet hum, the kind that you could easily ignore until you remembered it was there. She tried to comprehend the speeds they were travelling at, the distance, all the impossibly huge numbers, but her exhausted brain couldn't manage it. Frank tightened his grip for a moment, pressing his face against her neck, and she was grounded.

The realization she'd had lying in bed earlier fell back against the shores of her mind, resounding with another frightening and daunting crash. He spoke first- Patricia didn;t think she could've even if she'd tried

"We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." He said, pressing soft kisses to her neck, like he could read her mind.

"I though I was the telepathic one here." She smiled faintly.

"No, your thoughts are just a little loud sometimes, especially when they're about me."

"What?!" She stepped away and tried to hide her embarrasment, turning her head and hiding her face with her hair. He laughed and poked her ribs.

"No, I just guessed, thats how I was feeling." She turned back to him. His smile was open and honest, inky shadows and pretty starlight dancing across his face, or maybe that was his own doing, reflecting the spectacular view outside. She kissed him softly, closed mouth, and leant her forehead against his.

"Can we just go to bed? For now?" He nodded and kissed her nose, then nuzzled her hair, making her giggle a litle. They put their new clothes away in new drawers, and found some night gowns in there. At first, they lay on opposite sides of the bed, grinning stupidly at each other. Frank held out his arms and she rolled into them, almost knocking them onto the floor. He laughed and shuffled across a little, so that he was almost lying underneath her, like he was trying to get as close to her as possible.

"Hey" He murmured, nosing her ear.

"Hey yourself" She kissed his nose, his mouth, his jaw, almost lazily. They had all the time in the world. Apart from the fact they were no longer apart of a world. But they'd make their own world, a temporary world of their own, right here.

She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his heart beat and his lungs breathe, watched whole galaxies pass by on his skin. When he slept, his skin flickered with images like an old cinematograph. It was eerily quiet- the colours were so vivid you'd expect them to make sound, but no- they were just colours, stray thoughts flying over pale skies. For a moment, a scaly hand and a brown almond-shaped eye flickered up on his stomach, a sweep of brown hair over his collar bone, and that was _her_ on his skin, in his dreams. If she concentrated, she could hear the faint music of his thoughts. 

Sleep claimed her then, but she was safe in mind and embrace of Frank, which was all that really mattered.

~*~

It was a week. A tough week- adjusting to the constant movement, the random headaches, a new sleep cycle. But it was a week, when she was starting it get used to the new changes, that it really hit her. She was walking along one of the long, slim corridors, one side of which was composed of 10-foot thick specially adpated glass to allow people to observe space, when she realised. This was her home now. The tiny planetoid, the pathetic plantation, it was all gone. Behind her now. She heard a thump and she was on the floor, staring out at the endless void. Her chest was shrinking and her heart was beating, everywhere all at once, her throat was constricting, she couldn't breath. Her fingers scrabbled at the cold white plastic deck and her breath came in ragged snatches, there wasn't enough air, she was going to die, she was so far from home I want to go home-There was someone with her, asking her something. He was asking if she was okay, was she having a panic attack? She managed to choke out that she was, and he sat next to her. His voice was soothing, and calming. He was telling her to breath deeply and slowly, and she did. In, out, in, and out. His hand has on her chest, helping her breathe normally.

Once she had wiped her watering eyes, and her breathing had levelled out, she surveyed the stranger. He had a thick mop of light brown hair and wide blue eyes, and small pretty mouth. His long, sharp face was creased with worry.

"Thank you for helping me." She managed to say at last, her voice was still ragged. He helped her to her feet.

"No problem. I've had panic attacks in the past, they're not nice are they?" He was smiling now, a shy small thing like one of the tiny birds that sometimes flitted through the fields when Patricia was working. She found herelf blushing and chuckling a little.

"No, they're not." She found herelf blushing and chuckling a little.

"Can I ask what triggered it?" Patricia had been prepared to politely decline, but instead found her mouth had other ideas.

"Yeah, it's okay, it's just...the magnitude of this trip really hit me." He nodded.

"Yeah, we've had a couple of cases like that recently."

"Oh, are you not a passenger?"  _Of course he isn't_ , a voice in her head whispered,  _look at his uniform dumb ass._ He was wearing clothes similar to the standard clothing of the passengers, but his shirt was replaced by a simple blue tunic with a red cross emblazoned on the shoulder.

He just smiled that same shy smile. "No, I'm a nurse. I was just checking the security cameras, and I saw you there against the wall, so I left my office to come help you and... here I am." He opened his arm a little and cocked his head to the side with a more confident smile, a deep laugh.

His thoughts were nervously jittery, but also like butterflies, and he wasn't really thinking words but emotions and feelings. He paused in his actions and looked at something above her head with great interest. Then he seemed to realise how loud his thoughts were and the stream stopped, the corridor was blank once more.

"Oh my goodness I am so sorry, I didn't mean to pry it's just I don't have much control over my power and it was really clear-"

"It's okay, I don't mind, I don't have much control either." 

"Do you have telepathy to?" Patricia asked eargerly- she'd never met anyone with a telepathy freak before.

"Yes, of a sort- I can kind of see people's emotions? It's hard to explain. They're like, coloured clouds around people's heads, or wisps of thread floating around. By extension I can transfer emotions and feelings too, which is handy if you need to calm someone down or help with pain."

"Is that what you were doing when you put your hand on my chest?" She felt ver inquisitive, and excited- Frank had no mind freaks, so she'd never been able to properly talk with someone about thoughts and the complicated processes and emotions of the mind before.

"Yeah, just to help you calm down. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, no not at all. I've never met anyone with a mental freak before, this is really interesting."

That shy smile was back, and they started talking earnestly about telepathy and thoughts while slowly walking back to Patricia's flat. 

By the time they got back, Patricia could faintly pick up colours in people thoughts, and she'd been helping him to block out other people's thoughts. His name was Mod, she'd discovered, and he'd worked in a hospital on the moon colony of Darkan. She'd told him a little of her past on the plantation- there wasn't much to tell really. As they were standing outside her door, she realised she'd completely omitted Frank from their conversation.

So when he answered the door with a confused, sleep face and messy bed hair, she felt like the worst girlfriend in the extremely short history of their ship. As soon as he saw Mod, the reds and pale pastels cleared from is face, and only Patrcia caught the short bright sparks of venom green below his collar.

"Hi." Frank ventured, looking between them.

"Hi, I'm Mod, I'm a nurse. Patricia had a panic attack, and I helped her." Mod held out his long, skinny arm to shake Frank's hand. He was tall and skinny, while Frank was shorter and stockier.

Frank turned to her. "Sweetie are you okay?" His words were filled with kind worry, but his eyes asked a lot more questions than that.

"Yes, I'm fine." She said, sendning him a dart of a thought telling him she'd explain later.

"Thanks for helping her out." Frank nodded at Mod, shaking his hand. Mod smiled.

"I'd better be getting back to work then. See you around, Patricia, Frank." He left with a nod, heading for one of the elevators. She realised he must have spent a lot of his shift time talking to her. She wasn't sure how it made her feel.

"So." Frank said, closing the door behind him. Those green sparks were just visible, with wavy blue-grey wisps of doubt on his pale neck. "You were gone a while."

"Frank, I really did have a panic attack, I would've called you but then Mod was there and he helped me out, nothing happened."

"He likes you though. I don't have to be a fucking telepath to tell, it's obvious." His words stung, and she stumbled back a little.

"Why are you so worried about it? I don't like him back, not in that way."

Frank turned his back, and in his state of anger his thoughts spilled over. Patricia slumped from her strong stance and tentatively touched his shoulder.

"You don't have to worry about me leaving you. Yes, there are other men here now, there are other women here now too. But I'm not going anywhere."

He muttered something under his breath, inaudible. She asked him what he said, a gentle coaxing thought.

"I said" He turned to face her. "He is a lot better looking than me, and I'd understand if you did leave."

Patricia was shocked. She pulled him into a tight hug, and he slumped against her. She thought loudly about how beautiful he was, drawing little circles on his back with the tip of her talon. How much she loved him, and how perfect he was. She kissed his neck gently, and watched the pink blossom out from where her lips touched his skin.

"Okay." He sniffed, pulling back and kissing her softly on the mouth.

"You are the most handsome man in space, Frank. We're in this together." She ran her scaly hand down his cheek, a pale plateau flecked with stubble.

"You do need to shave though." She added, and he chuckled, kissing her hand.

"I love you." He said, and his skin flushed the colour of sunsets.

"I love you too." She kissed the top of his head and grinned at him. He went out soon after, to collect their food for the day, and she sat on the bed to gether her thoughts. 

She deleved into her mind and brought up all the emotions she'd had with Mod, and locked them away in a file in a file in a file, to be ignored. She was with Frank, and one kindly nurse wouldn't change that.

Patricia made small talk over dinner, about Frank's day. He had a job working in the kitchens, as he wasn't qualified to work as anything else. She was still looking for a job, and they ended up eating in silence.

However, when they went to bed Frank instantly wrapped her in a warm, clean-and-soft-and-completely-Frank smelling embrace, so she took it as a sure sign that all was forgiven.

Patricia woke to starlight shimmering off of the walls, and Frank mouthing and sucking at her collar bone. She moaned softly and ran her fingers up his side, under his shirt and onto his back.

His teeth grazed her skin and he moved up her neck, capturing her mouth in a needy wet kiss. She rolled onto her back and he knelt over her, one hand braced against her head and the other smoothing lines from her hip bone to her breast under her shirt. She nosed at the soft skin under his ear, breathless for a moment, then hesitantly moved her hand to palm at his crotch. He gave a needy whine and bucked into it slightly, rocking his hips.

This was probably the furthest they’d gone now, but before she could voice her nerves his tongue was back in her mouth and his hands was magic and that was all the mattered anymore. She fumbled with the buckle of his pants and tugged them down- he clumsily struggled out of them and his shirt while she fumbled with the buttons on her night shirt.

“Let me, let me.” Franks hands were sure and nimble, and positively glowing with colour.

Almost his whole body was obscured with colours. Normally there’d be patches of his natural, pale skin, but now it was awash with tides of orange, jets of red and swirling veils of pink and soft green. The pictures and shapes on his arms and torso were completely washed away; pure unadulterated emotion translated into colour the only thing remaining.

She expected it to be more awkward, more fumbling than it was when it did happen. But he was gentle, and asked with questioning glances whether this was okay or that was. He treated her as though she’d break any moment. She tried to be careful with her hands, but Frank still ended up with scratches on his waist and back. He said it was okay though because she had a huge hickey on her lower neck that people were bound to notice. She would’ve cared, but instead she just laughed.

It was bliss, lying in their bed together in the early morning. Although it wasn’t really, there was no days here, only the main lighting fading in and out at set hours. She was happy though, content, her skin reflecting the faint glow from Frank’s like the moon reflecting the light of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a new concept 'verse i'm working on at the minute. this probably happened in that universe, and its based on one plot idea i had for this concept.
> 
> The 'conflict on earth' is basically this massive world war III (or maybe IV?) with super weapons and all sorts (go here: http://mortalengines.wikia.com/wiki/Sixty_Minute_War the war is based on this really (also read the predator cities quartet they're so good)). There are roughly 50 of these planetoids circling the Earth, with colonies set up on the Moon and Mars too. Theres gonna be some more background stuff on this on my livejournal account so yeah. Sci-fi.


End file.
